


Hold this heart, and I will not fall hard this time

by tamana



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, One-sided Otayuri, Pet Names, Phichit is a blessing, Pliroy Week 2017, Rimming, Unrequited love is fifty shades of hell, Yuri suffers, slight daddy kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10173434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamana/pseuds/tamana
Summary: Pliroy Week 2017 (Day 7 - College)The night he meets JJ for the first time, the world does tilt and fall, but only because the bartender’s been offering him free drinks in a (futile) campaign to get into his pants, and the alcohol in his veins makes the edges of his vision blur, every limb of his body boneless and heavy. He might feel guiltier about accepting the drinks, but he’s drowning in college loans and knows there’s no way he’s getting drunk out of his own wallet.





	1. Chapter 1

He remembers asking Mila once, in a rare moment of drunken vulnerability, what it felt like, meeting the man she knew she was going to spend the rest of her life with. She’d leaned in and said, “Like the ground shifting under your feet, the rest of the world fading, falling –” her eyes had slipped shut, fingers waving drunkenly, “– and taking your panties along with it.” Then she’d dissolved into the sort of giggling only the truly happy and truly drunk could achieve, and Yuri had been forced to tuck her into bed.

The night he meets JJ for the first time, the world does tilt and fall, but only because the bartender’s been offering him free drinks in a (futile) campaign to get into his pants, and the alcohol in his veins makes the edges of his vision blur, every limb of his body boneless and heavy. He might feel guiltier about accepting the drinks, but he’s drowning in college loans and knows there’s no way he’s getting drunk out of his own wallet.

And he _needs_ to get drunk tonight. Absolutely blitzed, he promises himself.

Anything to burn the image of Otabek kissing that girl away. _A cleansing of sorts_ , he thinks viciously, and raises his glass to his lips. Realizing it’s empty, he lowers it with a defeated whimper and turns to the bartender. As he turns, he realizes there’s a guy sitting beside him at the bar, and he inhales sharply as he takes in the broad back ending in wide shoulders, and black hair shaved in an undercut. _Beka,_ he thinks with a confusing surge of pain and hope _._ But something’s _off_ about the figure: the torso too tall, something about the slope of the shoulders different _. And the suit –_ it’s an unlikely choice for Otabek.

_– he’s only seen Otabek in a suit once, and it’s not a memory he’s keen to revisit; his grandfather’s funeral, feeling like the world had split open, his heart torn down the middle, and Otabek the only stable ground he could find. Beka: his rock, his best friend, his sometime fuckbuddy, now his nothing because he’s found someone else, and Yuri will be all alone, like he was always meant to, Christ –  
_

Then the man’s turning, dragging a full glass across the wood grain of the bar, and _he is most definitely not Otabek_. He looks different, _older._

“Here,” not-Beka says and taps the side of the glass. “You look like you need it more than I do.”

The mingled shock and relief silences Yuri, and he only stares at him, suspicion narrowing his eyes into slits. Undeterred, the man only laughs and pushes the glass closer to Yuri.

“You’ve been ordering this drink the whole night, so I know you’ll like it.” Then his smile turns a shade arched, shrugging as he pulls back, “And I haven’t slipped anything into it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Feeling caught out but refusing to apologize _because there are some truly nasty assholes out there, and Yuri is nobody’s fool_ , Yuri pushes the glass back at the man pointedly. “That sounds like something a guy who’s drugged the fuck out of that drink would say.” 

The guy’s laughing again, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Jesus, kid, you’re a tough one.” As Yuri suffers a full body bristling at being called a kid, the man knocks back the drink easily and signals to the bartender. “Another one for princess here.” Then he winks at Yuri.

_That motherfucking fuck –_

When the drink arrives, the man pushes it to Yuri and gestures with a satisfied flourish. Yuri grabs it and downs it in one vicious go, and then he’s pulling the man towards him by the front of his shirt.

“Listen, _old man_ , if you think I let just anyone call me princess –”

The fucker’s laughing harder now, but at least he’s raised his arms in the air now, a gesture of surrender. “Alright, alright.” He manages to curl some of his fingers to make a peace sign, which looks so incongruous on a grown man in a suit and tie that Yuri’s grip on the shirt relaxes, and the man manages to pull back and straighten up in his chair. As he busies himself re-arranging his shirt back into a semblance of neatness, he flashes Yuri an easy smile.

Entirely against his will, Yuri feels himself begin to relax.

The man finishes with his shirt, and orders another round of drinks.

Yuri rolls his eyes, and then leans forward. “Look, you asshole. You’re obnoxious, and you give me a headache –”

“Well, don’t hold back, darling. Tell me what you really think.”

“Let me finish, old man. Nobody teach you manners in whatever fancy school you went to?” Impossibly, the man’s smile only seems to get wider the longer Yuri speaks. Yuri glares at him. “Look, I don’t know what angle you’re playing here, old man,” as he speaks, he feels his spine straightening, his body locking up in a pre-emptive defense for the things he’s admitting, “But I’m broke, and if you’re going to sit here and insist on buying me drinks, then I’m not saying no.”

The guy just looks at him and keeps grinning. “Well then, princess. Drink up. Because as long as you’re drinking, I’d like to be the one buying.”

And that’s that.

 

 

Well, not quite.

An hour later, Yuri feels pleasantly warm and uncommonly happy, as he tends to get when he’s two glasses away from being well and truly smashed. The guy’s chattering on, smiling as he does so, his hands a livewire between the two of them as he gestures.

It strikes Yuri, then, that the guy is good-looking. _Extremely_ good-looking. He wouldn’t allow himself to concede that earlier, when he was much more sober and the guy had been just another creep in a bar. But now Yuri lets his eyes trail the strong brow, the sharp cheekbones, and the solid-looking chest, and feels a different sort of heat gather between his shoulders and curl around his spine.

He lets his eyes take in the man’s arms, and has to bite his lip to keep himself from embarrassing himself. _Jesus_ , he thinks reverentially. _Those arms._ Those arms that end in _those hands_.

Yuri stares at the thick veins on the man’s hands, and absently feels himself lick his lips as he takes in the thick fingers.

He’d bet those fingers would feel good in his mouth, even better in his –

“Darling?” The hands are waving, now. “Princess, you still there?”

He raises his eyes to the man’s face then, and makes a decision. Summoning every inch of coordination he has left, he leans into the man and breathes into his ear.

“Settle your tab, loser, we’re going back to your place.”


	2. Chapter 2

The ride to the guy’s place is a blur. He ignores the streets outside - there is just the hand on his knees sliding up, up, and _up_ , until he’s shuddering in his seat, feeling ready for anything. There is a promise in the tension he can sense in the man’s hand on his thigh, heavy and proprietary, and in his white-knuckled grip on the wheel. 

Then they’re in a lobby, brightly lit and opulent in a way he probably would have stared at, if he were not in such a hurry to get into the elevator and out of his clothes. It feels like an eternity slips by before the elevator doors slide open.

Yuri grabs the front of the man’s coat and tugs him forward, then stops after a beat. He feels the man stumble into his back, the man’s hands coming up to balance himself against Yuri’s hips.

“Am I having a stroke or is that a fucking sofa in the elevator?” Because there it is, a lounge seat in the fucking elevator. Yuri feels affronted by the sheer excessiveness of it. It looks like it costs more than the bed in his apartment.

From behind him, he feels the man bend down into his neck and chuckle, then push him bodily into the elevator.  He’s not even surprised when the man reaches his arm from behind Yuri and pushes the button for the top floor.

“You should know this is not a Pretty Woman situation, you perv.” Even as he says it, he leans back against the man, cocking his head up to gaze at him.

The guy has his arms crossed, an almost indulgent smile on his face as he tilts his head down to face Yuri.

 _Ridiculous,_ he thinks, and silences the voice saying _ridiculous fucking gorgeous smile._ He presses a finger into the man’s chest. “And I am not your whore.”

The guy lets out a laugh then, and then he’s snaking an arm tight around Yuri, tugging him snug against him, enough to feel the heat of the man’s arousal against the small of his back. He turns up in time to see the man’s smile turn wicked. “We’ll see about that.”

Then the doors open with a ping, and the hall spins as he’s lifted up onto the man’s shoulders. Vaguely, he thinks about being offended, but decides he’s too turned on to bother.

They enter the apartment, but he barely takes notice of their surroundings, his mind too cluttered by the muscles in the man's back and how they'd feel under his fingers.

He's dazed by the time he’s being deposited on a plush bed, the man settling above him. He pushes Yuri's knees apart, and then all Yuri can think about is the man’s tongue in his mouth, wicked and clever, promising things that make him shudder and pant beneath him.

 

 

They fuck. It’s no surprise, given everything that’s said in the way the man leans and breathes into his ear, the way Yuri arches when he does. What does come as a surprise is how hard Yuri comes. And comes. _And comes._

The first time, the man presses him into the bed and bends him in half, his toes clenching in the air as the man rams into him. The man’s length is satisfyingly thick, and every thrust lifts Yuri's hips clear off the bed, his mouth slack and open as he moans.

“Darling,” he feels more than hears the man breathe against the side of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but you sound like a proper whore right now.” And that’s it, he’s coming, his mind a furious mess of embarrassed and sated.

He doesn’t even get a chance to catch his breath before the man is pushing him onto his side and lifting one of his legs onto his shoulder, still inside him. His fingers are a heated circle around Yuri’s ankle before they slide down and grip his thigh, palm pushing it down into his chest as he moves deeper into Yuri. He’s slowed down now, pulling out almost to the tip before pushing in leisurely. There’s something teasing in the way he fucks into him, smug and knowing in a way that makes Yuri close his eyes and bite his bottom lip.

“What do you think, darling –” It’s maddening, how unhurried the man sounds. “– Do you think you can be a good boy and come a second time?”

It’s enough to make Yuri narrow his eyes at him, his hole clenching around the length pushing into him. The man hisses, and Yuri bares his teeth at him. “I don’t know, fucker. Do you think you can make me?” Despite his words, he can feel a familiar heat build inside him, cresting sharply. He ignores it and pushes on, lets his voice turn sweet and languid. “Getting tired? Maybe the doorman can give us a hand, he seemed like he could put his back into it.”

He hears another laugh and shivers as he feels echoes of its reverberations down where the man is buried deep inside him. He tightens around the man again and smiles when the man curses.

“You little shit.” The hand on his thigh presses down sharply, opening him up more, and he bites down on a moan.

“I’ve gotten harder fucks than this from my vibrator, you – _fuck_ ” he cries out. The man’s driving into him harder now, pounding into his prostate.

The man bends down and leans against his thigh, the burn of the stretch tugging his mouth open in a wet moan. “Is this hard enough, darling?” His voice is light, but his grip on Yuri’s thigh is punishing.

“Not even close, you lazy fucker.” He gasps it out weakly, but _it’s the thought that counts_ , he tells himself. Each thrust makes him cry out softly now, an embarrassing train of _ah, ah, ahs,_ and he brings a hand up and presses it to his mouth.

“You say that, but you’re moaning like a girl getting fucked for the first time, princess.”

Another snap of the man’s hips is all it takes, and Yuri’s clamping down on the man, hands muffling a scream as he comes a second time.

Inside him, the man stops and lets him breathe. He feels his leg being lowered, and then the man’s pushing him onto his front. _Jesus Christ,_ he thinks, as the man pulls his hips up, his back curving as his upper half remains limp on the bed. He hisses as the man withdraws, his hole fluttering against the emptiness. He feels the man spread his cheeks apart and pause, hot breaths against his hole, hears “you poor little thing,” and thinks _Jesus fucking Christ,_ because then the man’s licking into him, the wet muscle of his tongue curling inside and making him squirm - 

Then a finger joins the tongue, and he sobs. It presses deep, twisting, and he pushes back into it without thinking. The man pulls out, and he whines.

Behind him, the man sits up between his legs. A hand comes up and presses down firmly on his neck, keeping him still, and then he feels the man’s cock push back inside him in one slow stroke. He’s panting into the sheets by the time the man bottoms out. The man pauses, and he feels a hand settle on his hip. They both breathe out, and in, then the man starts to move. He can hear the loud slap of skin against skin, and he thrills at it.

He hears “Good boy, look at you, taking my cock so well -” and he whimpers. "You were made for this –"

He covers his mouth with a fist, and the man delivers a hard slap on his ass. “None of that, darling boy. Let me hear you.” Then the man drives in harder and deeper, and he spreads his legs farther apart reflexively, his spine arching back deeper into the man’s thrusts. The hand on his hip slides back and down, and then he feels a finger inching up to where the man is rooted inside him, where his hole is stretched taut, and his breath hitches –

“You’ll like this, princess –”

Then the finger is pressing in, sliding in deep beside his cock, and the stretch burns, burns so _good_ that Yuri feels it in his lungs, and then he’s sobbing, coming so hard he sees lights dance in the back of his lids.

Dimly, he feels the man come inside him with a groan before he slumps into the bed, and he lets his eyes fall shut.

 _Tomorrow_ , he thinks. _I’ll deal with everything tomorrow,_ and then his thoughts fade.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic was supposed to be a quick Sugar Daddy PWP fic, but then it decided to grow feelings, and mutated into a long-ass Yuri-centric fic. 
> 
> Now I'm three chapters into this, and there is still no sight of Sugardaddying. I am sorry. It will come, though.

It’s the sound of the shower running that wakes him.

That, and the auditory assault of a grown man singing Ariana Grande.

He’s pulling the ridiculously soft pillow over his head to drown out the noise when he sees the clock on the bedside table. _7:07 AM_.

Fuck, he thinks. _Fuck._

“Fuck me,” he breathes out.

“I thought we took care of that last night, darling.” He nearly gives himself whiplash when he turns in bed to see the guy, towel slung low over his hips – still gorgeous in the light of day, and _wow_ – with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. And Yuri has known a lot of shit-eaters in his life.

One brow rises on the man’s face when Yuri flings the covers and steps out of bed, hiding a wince, and goes to search for his clothes.

“I guess not, if you’re walking.”

“Jesus,” Yuri stops mid-bend as he’s reaching for his shirt on the floor. He has to bite his lip to cover the flinch as he straightens up. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not half as much as my mother wishes.”

Yuri only scowls harder, and the guy stoops down to gather their clothes from the floor and settle them on the trunk by the foot of the bed. He sees a hint of ink on the man’s back, and his mouth suddenly feels dry. _No,_ he scolds himself. _Focus._

“How about this, then. I take care of the clothes, you get back to bed, and we –”

“I don’t have time for this.” Yuri grabs his clothes and sets off for the shower. “I’m going to take a shower –” and here Yuri can see the way the man’s eyes brighten, his entire being stand to attention like a dog wagging its tail at the first scent of meat. “– And you are _not_ going to join me. Jesus. You just took a shower –”

“I can take one again –”

“That is wasteful, and you are hurting the environment, you complete asshole –”

“Which is why we share the shower now and next time,” the guy says slowly, like he thinks _Yuri_ is being unreasonable.

“Whatever,” he says and stomps to the shower. If the guy wants to rack up his water bill, it’s on him. He flings the shower door open and whirls around to face him. The guy’s standing just outside the bathroom, looking stupidly hopeful, and fine. _Fine._

“Well?” He steps further into the shower and stares pointedly at the man. “Are you joining me or not?”

He has to bite down on a smile when the man lights up and tugs the towel off his hips excitedly. Underneath the sculpted abs and the tattoos, the guy is just an overgrown puppy.

There’s a hiss, then the water starts to beat down on them, and the man crowds him against a wall.

“Darling, you’re straight out of a dream.”

Yuri rolls his eyes and shivers when the man rolls their hips together.

“Whatever, you giant cheeseball,” he gasps. “After this, you’re making me coffee, and then you’re driving me to the lab.”

“It’s a Sunday,” the man protests. “I was hoping to –”

“Doesn’t matter. I have work to do, you massive child.”

The man just nuzzles deeper into his neck and tugs at one of his nipples. He does _not_ moan.

“As you wish, princess.”

 

 

The guy does drive him downtown, and save for a brief moment where the man insists he knows a shortcut that will save them time and Yuri’s blood pressure spikes in response, it goes smoothly. They get to the research laboratory with more than a few minutes to spare, and the man lets his car idle by the curb.

Yuri turns to him and means to thank him, and hesitates.

Yuri’s become intimate with disappointment in his life, is the thing. But last night had brought a fresh kind of disappointment, one he has had no chances to build defenses against –   _Beka_ was supposed to be his last defense _–_ and the man had fucked him and helped him forget the sick squeeze of his heart for a second. The dull throb of _loss_ in his head had quietened, and for a moment he had been able to breathe, think that maybe things weren’t so bad, and he doesn’t know the words to thank the man. Doesn’t know how to make the man understand. _Thanks for the mind-numbing orgasms? Thanks for fucking me to distraction?_ He wants to punch himself for his stupidity.

His tongue feels useless and heavy in his mouth.

 _I’m probably just another fuck to him anyway_ , he thinks. _No need to get emotional and embarrass myself._

“It’s JJ, by the way.”

“What?” Drawn out of his thoughts, he focuses on the man again. He’s got a small smile on, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes when he looks at Yuri.

“My name, darling.” He reaches out a hand and tucks a strand of loose hair behind Yuri’s ear, and Yuri tenses. The man must notice because he withdraws and leans back into his chair. “You looked a bit lost for a moment there, that’s all.”

 _JJ,_ Yuri thinks and feels his mouth echo it silently, learning the shape of it.

He watches the man - _JJ_ \- drum his fingers on the steering wheel for a second, thinks _fuck it,_ and pecks him on the cheek, his face burning as he does so. He slides out of the car before JJ can say anything.

“Thanks for the ride.”

And then he’s off, running past security, grabbing a white coat from the lockers, and sliding into his work station just as Dr. Baranovskaya walks in.

He settles into work, and everything else falls silent.

 

 

Hours later, he gets back to his apartment, exhausted.  He is relieved to see that Otabek’s shoes aren’t by the door where he usually leaves them, and he walks to his room.

There’s a note stuck to his door –

_Went out to get milk. Talk later?_

_No thanks_ , he thinks, then falls into bed and closes his eyes. There’s a dip in the bed, and he feels something warm and soft brush against his ankles.

“Valery,” he calls out, and the cat butts her head against his chest a second later. “You’re not going to let me sleep are you?” There’s a purr, and then he feels the swish of her tail against his chin. “Fine, you brat.”

He stands up and walks out into the living room, Valery a smug weight cradled against his chest. He takes in the battered couch he and Otabek had rescued from the street, the photographs littered along the walls, the mismatched throw pillows Mila had called an eyesore - _and that’s me being generous, Yura!_

He looks at the apartment he’s shared with Otabek for the past year, since Grandfather died, and he thinks - _Not yet._ He’s just gotten used to the rhythm of a life where his Grandfather is absent, and then more recently, to the terror of realizing he had fallen in love with the last person he had left to lose.

 _You stupid fuck_ , he thinks. _Who falls in love with their best friend?_

He sees a photograph of the two of them, slyly taken by Mila – Otabek behind his DJ stand, headphones around his neck, and one arm looped around Yuri. Yuri has his face turned up to Otabek, wearing the world’s most revealing smile. It hurts to even look at it. He remembers the precise moment it was taken – minutes before midnight on New Year’s Eve, Otabek pulling Yuri into the booth – _I keep my promises, Yura_ – Mila following them drunkenly, cooing _You guys are adorable together_ , and Otabek laughing into Yuri’s neck. He had tugged Yuri into his side, and Yuri didn’t even mind the sweat and the smell of smoke that clung to him, because Otabek had put his arm around him, had smiled that damn smile of his, and that was it. That was when Yuri had let the first bloom of hope take root.

_You fucking cliché._

He steps back into his room and brings out his duffel bag.

Otabek might be ready to talk, but he isn’t.

 

 

There are plenty of things Yuri can and will readily say about Yuuri Katsuki, such as 1) that he cries over Disney movies too much, or 2) that he can’t handle his drink; but one thing he can’t say is that the man is uncharitable.

When he gets to the apartment Yuuri shares with Phichit, the couch is ready, and Yuuri is wringing his hands, apologizing for not having a spare bed lying around for him.

“Phichit!” Yuri yells tiredly. “Come get your roommate before he breaks his back saying sorry for doing me a favor.” He turns to Yuuri, “Katsu, I will deny I ever said this, but you are an actual angel, and this is more than enough.”

Yuuri turns teary-eyed, and he backs off. He can tell a hug is coming.

“Phichit!”

There’s the sound of running footsteps, and then arms are coming around him from behind – “ _Phichit,_ ” he warns – and then he sees the mug of hot chocolate clutched in one of the hands and allows the hug.

“I thought you’d like that,” Phichit says smugly.

Yuri tugs the mug free in response and plops into the couch. Yuuri and Phichit follow, sitting on either side of him.

There’s a moment of silence as Yuri sips from his mug, then Yuuri slowly leans into his side.

“…Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

At the far corner of the room, he can see the wooden hamster palace Phichit has set up, and he watches the hamsters scurry around happily. One of them hits a rubber ball, bouncing back to the ground with a _plop_ , and it cheerfully jumps back on top of it. He didn’t think he could ever be jealous of hamsters, but there he was. “Your hamsters are getting fat, Phichit,” he grumbles. “Buy them another ball before we get an army of miniature Katsudons.”

There’s a snort from beside him, then Phichit gets up and stretches. “I have MICU rounds early tomorrow, but we’ll be here when you’re ready to talk, alright?” He looks at Yuri and tugs him up into another hug. “Chin up, Yurio. This too shall pass!” Yuri groans, and Phichit laughs as he walks away to his bedroom. “And if not, Yuuri and I will take you out, and we can dance and get drunk, maybe find someone tall, dark, and handsome to help you forget.” 

He shuts his door with a wave, and Yuri falls back into the couch. He grouses when he feels Yuuri poke him in his side.

“Go to sleep, Katsu, I’m not going to fling myself out the window.” He feels the couch shift as Yuuri leans towards him.

“Yurio –”

“Maybe tomorrow, Katsu.” He sighs and burrows into the pillow Yuuri must have brought out. “I’m serious. I know you’re on call at the ER tomorrow. If you slip up and a baby falls on the floor or some shit, it’s not going to be because I kept you up.”

He hears Yuuri laugh softly then get up, and he stretches out along the length of the couch. “Finally,” he huffs out.

He shuts his eyes firmly, and he feels a blanket being pulled over him, then fingers in his hair, ruffling the strands lightly. “Goodnight, Yurio.” Then the lights shut off.

 

 

Between his coursework and his research, he manages to avoid thinking about Otabek for an entire week. Senior year of pre-med isn’t very forgiving anyway, so he buries his mobile into the bottom of his backpack, throws himself into the library in between classes, and drowns himself in textbooks until he gets kicked out. Or gets drawn out by bribes of dinner from Yuuri or Phichit on their free days.

He gets so far ahead in his coursework that when the weekend comes, he doesn’t put up much of a fuss when Yuuri and Phichit drag him out of the library.

“We’re going out drinking,” Phichit says firmly.

“You’re buying,” Yuri shoots back.

He gets a bag swung at him, but he counts it as a win when nobody argues.

 

 

He stops feeling like a winner when they slide into a table at the bar, and Yuuri decides to stage an intervention.

“Otabek’s been calling, Yurio.”

Immediately, he tenses.

“He’s been worried. He says you haven’t answered any of his messages or his calls.” There’s concern in his eyes, liquid and soft, but Yuri has to look away.

He hunches into his jacket and drops his gaze to the table. It’s a light wood grain, chipped in some places.

“Did something happen?”

There’s a water stain near his hand – and he remembers scolding Otabek once, for not using coasters, when Grandfather took such care of the wood at home, _You take care of what little you have, Yuratchka,_ and he had been so pleased when Otabek had come home and quietly slipped a box of cat-shaped coasters in the cupboard.

“You can talk to us –”

Near the stain, something’s been etched into the wood. _Love wins! K &K 5evah! 12/31/16_

 _Yeah right._ He takes a sip of his drink and looks up at Yuuri and Phichit.

“It’s nothing,” he forces himself to say. “He just got a girlfriend.”

“…Ah.”

It’s strange. He thought he might find some relief from saying it out loud, but it only seems to break open a latch somewhere in him.

“I didn’t think it would hurt this much. I didn’t, I didn’t know -”

“Yura –”

“I know it’s not his fault, alright? I’m not stupid. We fucked, and we said it meant nothing, so we kept fucking.” He digs a nail into the carving on the wood and picks at it. _Like hell love wins. “_ Only I’m a fucking liar, alright? Because somewhere along the line, it started to mean something to me, and I –” he feels his mouth twist, “– I started to hope.”

His eyes begin to feel a bit hot, and he clears his throat.

“He’s the one who knows me the best now. I figured, if anyone can love me, it would be him, right?” He doesn’t say what he thinks next - _What does it mean when even your best friend can’t manage to love you back?_

He feels the tears spill finally, and he angrily brushes the trail of wetness on his face. Yuuri gets up from he is seated across from him and slides in next to him. An arm loops around his neck and pulls him into Yuuri’s side, and he allows it for a while. Phichit gets up and comes back with tissues.

“Enough with the pity party,” Yuri groans as he blows his nose. “Somebody promised to get me drunk.”

 

 

He’s at the bar getting their third round of drinks when somebody presses up behind him.

The hard line of the person’s chest is familiar, and that’s the only reason he doesn’t he rear his head back into the person’s chin. That, and he doesn’t think his head could reach the person’s chin, anyway.

When he does turn around, JJ’s face is an image of wide-eyed delight. “I was hoping I’d bump into you, Princess.”

Yuri flushes. “Oh my god, no.” There’s an amused slant to his eyebrows that a stubborn part of him finds appealing, and he mentally pinches himself. _No._ He feels a wave of relief when the bartender brings over their drinks the next second, and he grabs them in a rush. He turns to their table, but JJ’s hand shoots out and stops him.

“You never did tell me your name, darling.”

“No, no, no,” he repeats and walks briskly back to where Yuuri and Phichit are waiting. JJ follows. He walks faster, and has to side-step someone on their way to the bar.

He hisses, “It was a one-night stand. We don’t need names.”

He doesn’t look back, but he can tell by how near the voice is that JJ’s following close behind him. “Who says it has to be just one night?” _Damn his long legs._

“I do,” he whispers furiously. He walk-runs the last few steps and slides into their booth, and lets out a breath when he doesn’t see JJ.

“You have to admit, though –” he jumps in his seat when the voice comes from behind him. “The sex was pretty spectacular.”

He groans and drops his head to the table.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yuuri and Phichit staring up at JJ, wide-eyed and speechless. Then JJ extends a hand to them, says, “I’m JJ, nice to meet you –” And abruptly, he thinks _No._

He leaps up from his seat and grabs JJ’s hand, throws Yuuri and Phichit the most apologetic look he can muster and says, “I’ll explain tomorrow,” as he drags JJ toward the doors.

“Yurio –”

“Don’t wait up,” he yells, and then they’re outside, the air cool against their faces, the music from the bar a muted hum behind them.

He hears a laugh, and he whirls around to face JJ. He’s never actually punched anyone after kindergarten, but there’s a first a time for everything.

Out of the crowd, Yuri can finally get a good look at him. He looks polished, dressed in another suit, with a self-assured grace. The lamplight casts a faint glow on him, the soft smile on his face in perfect relief as he waits for Yuri.

He looks gorgeous, the recalcitrant part of him says.

He thinks, _might as well._

“Make me feel it, alright?”

It’s cramped in the backseat of JJ’s car, and he probably should care that people might see them, but the hot current that’s spreading along his spine feels urgent, and he really, really can’t bring himself to care.

He grinds down on the fingers curling inside him only for a moment before he tugs them free impatiently.

“Enough,” he pants out. “I want to feel it.”

There’s a familiar burn as he steadies JJ’s cock and rocks down on it, and he hisses. He feels hands settle on his hips, thumbs rubbing circles into the crest of his hipbones, and he rocks down harder. The hands squeeze on his hips and force him into a less hurried rhythm.

“Slow down, darling.”

He frowns, displeased, and drops his hips sharply into the cradle of JJ’s hips. He shivers as JJ bottoms out. “Harder,” he whines, and circles his hips roughly. JJ is as thick and blunt as he remembers, but it’s not enough. “Fuck me, you lazy son of a bitch.”

JJ must finally realize he’s serious, because he growls and twists underneath Yuri, until Yuri’s back hits the seat. “Fucking fine,” he says and grabs Yuri’s ankles, spreads them wide. “But I’m taking my time with you later,” and he drives in with one swift stroke, grinding against Yuri’s spot harshly before pulling off and hammering back home.

He makes a wet mess of Yuri, and it’s so good Yuri almost thanks him.

He fingers the bruises forming on his hips instead and says, “Not bad.” Then he zips up, kisses JJ, and demands he get fucked in a bed for the next round.

“Anything you want, darling.”

There’s an indulgent curve in JJ’s smile as he drives the car out of the parking lot, and Yuri finds that he wants to kiss it. He thinks, _I could get used to this._


	4. Chapter 4

He doesn’t mean to stay the next morning, but his stomach kicks up a fuss when he wakes up, and he has no choice but to follow the smell of bacon and toast to the kitchen.

“Morning, Sunshine.” JJ is seated at the table, toast in one hand, iPad in the other.

Yuri yawns and stretches, noting the way JJ’s eyes follow the hem of his shirt as it rises over the tops of his thighs. He’d nicked one of JJ’s shirts, plain white cotton and several sizes overlarge on him. Its collar spills loosely over his collarbones, and as he bends his body into a sideways stretch, it slips off one shoulder.

He smirks as JJ’s toast hits his plate.

He takes a seat and steals the toast, munching happily. In seconds, he swipes some of the bacon as well. 

“Rude,” JJ says, delighted.

Yuri settles into his seat and tips his chin up at JJ. “Your fault for not preparing enough for your guest.”

He grins and pushes the plate nearer to Yuri gamely. “I was going to make it fresh for you when you woke up.”

“So you say,” he replies and takes another strip of bacon, points it towards JJ. “But I’m starting to learn I shouldn’t trust you.”

Across him, JJ’s eyes narrow a fraction, the question implicit as he raises one eyebrow.

Yuri leans towards him. “What day is it,” he asks lightly.

“Saturday.”

“Exactly,” Yuri says and gets up. “Last night you said you’d fuck me six ways to Sunday.”

He affects a yawn and turns back towards the bedroom quickly before the smile emerges fully formed on his lips.

“Darling,” the voice comes from behind him, strangled. He smiles and keeps walking, bends a second time and lets out a satisfied _aaahh_ as his joints give with a pop and realign.

In a second, he feels a tug on his wrist, then he’s being bent over the kitchen island.

“I see,” he grunts, as JJ lifts his shirt up and kneels behind him. He feels hands stroking the insides of his knees, and he spreads them obligingly. “Nothing like unsanitary sex in the morning to make up for false advertising.”

He closes his eyes and presses his cheek against the wood as he feels fingers dig into his ass and spread his cheeks.

“You did steal my food,” JJ points out. “A man’s got to eat somehow.”

He laughs, in spite of himself. “Lame,” he says, and then hooks a leg back around JJ. “Get on with it.”

“Don’t mind if I do, Princess.” He settles his leg back down, hears the whispered “Bon appetit,” and he’s laughing again –

“You fucking dork,” he gasps –

And then JJ’s eating him out, the slide of his tongue slow and thorough, until Yuri’s choking out and begging for more. It’s through a haze that he feels fingers slide into him, the arch of them inside him merciless.

“Darling," he may or may not moan when he feels the rasp of JJ's voice against his skin, "Do you think you could come from this?” 

The fingers pull out suddenly, then there’s a particularly hard suck on his hole, and he’s coming, fingers scrabbling uselessly at the smooth surface.

JJ pulls away, and he groans as JJ rearranges him easily on the tabletop so that he’s on his back. He tugs up one of Yuri’s legs up and bends it, laying it on the table. It stretches him viciously open, and it sends a filthy thrill up his spine where it’s curved on the table.

He gasps when three fingers slide back into him, and JJ mouths at his neck.

“You should know I’m not in the business of letting down people.” He twists as the fingers scissor and open him wider. “Let’s see if we can earn back a bit of your trust, shall we?”

He feels JJ grin into his skin, feels him push inside, blunt and thick and _perfect_.  “Consider this restitution for inadequate services.”

He really doesn’t mean to stay that morning, but JJ coaxes another orgasm out of him, and he blacks out there, on the kitchen island.

 

 

When he comes to, he can tell from the low light filtering from the shades that it’s dark outside.

His body is pleasantly sore, and he stretches his arms out lazily, his limbs soft and fuzzy. Everything feels good, and even the sheets crinkling against his skin as he moves feel satisfying.

He hears a low chuckle, and he turns in the bed slowly, blinking against the light coming from the open doorway, JJ blocking most of it.

“Darling,” he begins as he moves towards the bed. “It’s sweet, how much you look like a kitten right now.”

He reaches the bed and lays down next to Yuri, reaching a hand out, and Yuri starts when he sees his phone in JJ’s hand.

“Your friends called.” There’s a smug curl to his smile as he explains, “I pressed it against your ear to see if you would wake up.” There’s a glitter in his eye as he leans in, says, “You didn’t. Must have really worn you out.”

Yuri feels himself flush.

JJ clucks his tongue. “And don’t worry about the bit of drool you got on my pillow –”

Yuri feels the last of the dreamy languor fly out of his body as his hands rush to the corners of his mouth. _Shit_ , he thinks.

“I’ll just take that as collateral damage from fucking you senseless," JJ says, shrugging casually. "I hope we can now put any doubts about my skills to rest.” He gives Yuri a decisive pat on the hip before getting up. “You should let your friends know you’re alive. I promised them I’d deliver you back in one piece, _Yurio._ ” Then he’s out the room with a grin and a wink. Yuri gapes after him and suppresses the urge to scream.

He squints down on his phone instead and winces.

> _12 missed calls_
> 
> _27 new messages_

He opens the most recent message – one from Phichit, his eyes widening at the length:

> _Last one for now. Pls call Yuuri asap. Word on the floors is Dr. Nikiforov said hi to him this morning and he honest to god dropped a chart, do not think his heart can take any more excitement_
> 
> _P.S. JJ. WOW._ ♡♡♡ლ(´o **｀** )ლ ♡♡♡ _Have fun at dinner!_
> 
> _P.P.S. Hope you’re being safe ;p Brad and George miss you._
> 
> Below it, a picture of two hamsters looking innocently blissful, surrounded by condom packets.

There’s a whole bunch of other messages from Phichit and Yuuri, but he thinks he’s got the gist of it.

There are also messages from Otabek, which he continues to ignore. _Not yet not yet not yet –_

He groans and shoots Phichit a quick text –

> _Still alive. Get Brad and George out of the rubbers NOW._

Then he dials Yuuri’s number, flopping back into the bed when he gets the voicemail.

“Katsu,” he yells into the phone. “I don’t care how many peer-reviewed articles that Peds Surg fellow of yours has published. Get it together and make him work for it. He’s lucky you’re even looking at him.” He clears his throat and grumbles, “Also, I’m still alive. Don’t worry about me.”

As he talks, his eyes land on the other side of the bed where he sees clothes laid out. Pants, dress shirt, suit jacket, and socks.

He crawls to the edge of the bed and sees a pair of leather shoes.

“Also, tell Phichit if Brad and George bite holes into his condoms I will be the first one laughing if he knocks somebody up.”

He eyes the clothes again up close. They all look new and suspiciously too small for JJ. He turns to the phone absently, “I’ll call you again later, alright?”

He’s running his fingers along the sleeve of the jacket when he hears a cough and looks up.

It’s JJ at the door, in another crisp suit, hair slicked back. Yuri starts when he realizes his heart just skipped a beat. _Must be the sex endorphins_ , he thinks quickly.

“Get dressed, kitten. Dinner reservations at eight.”

He pinches himself when his heart skips another curious beat. _Control yourself, you sex-addled idiot._

 

 

He can tell as soon as they enter the restaurant that the meal is going to cost half his rent. They’re led to a secluded table by the windows, and he tries not to fidget as JJ pulls out a chair for him.

The waiter hands them a menu, and he feels his palms turn cold when he sees the price list. He hears JJ murmuring to the waiter, but he’s getting dizzy flipping through the menu and finding nothing reasonably priced. He jumps when he feels the menu tugged out of his hands. JJ hands it to the waiter, dismissing him, and Yuri leans towards him, feeling wild around the eyes.

“You crazy fuckhead,” he hisses. “I can’t afford any of this.”

There’s a smile on JJ’s face that he wants to claw off, and the urge gets stronger when JJ just waves a hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry, kitten. It’s my treat.”

“You idiot. It’s not just dinner. I can’t pay for the clothes either.” His fingers curl in the air in a chokehold, and he shakes them in front of JJ, briefly entertaining murderous thoughts. “I’m broke. I’m struggling to pay rent as it is, you asshole.”

He clenches his eyes shut and breathes in and out, willing himself to calm down. He opens them when he feels hands settle on top of his.

“Hey, darling, listen to me.” The hands squeeze his, and he lets out a breath. “The clothes were a gift. Relax, alright?”

Gradually, he feels himself settle back into his chair, the panic ebbing away.

The waiter comes back and lays down a plate of canapés, tiny and ridiculously decorative. He takes a picture with his phone quickly and defiantly tilts his head up when he sees JJ grinning.

He picks one up and studies the cracker and the spread of cheese and meats piled on it. He sneaks a glance up at JJ and sees him taking a bite of a delicate-looking pastry puff. He smiles at Yuri then, and Yuri looks back down at his bread quickly, flushing.

 _Idiot idiot idiot,_ he thinks. _Get a hold of yourself already._

Then a chunk of bread hits him on the forehead, and he looks up in surprise, sees JJ smiling softly at him.

“Stop it, kitten. I can see you working yourself up again.” He reaches out and presses a finger between Yuri’s eyebrows, smoothing out the place where his brow has scrunched up. “You’re getting all prickly again.”

Yuri grumbles weakly and swats his finger away, popping the cracker into his mouth, relaxing despite himself.

“So tell me, how does a guy in his late twenties –” he narrows his eyes as JJ’s eyes crinkle, “possibly thirties, earn enough to afford all this?” He grabs another canapé and waves it at JJ. “You one of those tech start-up millionaires? An heir of some sort?” Then his eyes widen and he pitches his voice lower, “You don’t work for the mafia, do you?”

JJ laughs. “Nothing that exciting, kitten.” He leans back into his chair and clears his throat. “I’m in business. COO, actually.”

He must see the look of confusion on Yuri’s face because he clarifies, “Second in command for the company, basically.”

Yuri raises a brow, processing. “You seem a bit young to be second in command,” he says, then curses mentally when he realizes what he just said. He’d always hated being talked down to for being young himself. “I didn’t mean –” he tries to apologize but stops when he sees JJ waving a hand at him to stop.

“Nah, you’re right,” JJ says a bit sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “My dad’s the CEO. Family business.” Yuri wants to shoot himself, a bit.

“I was going to rise up the ranks, pay my dues and do it properly, you know?” JJ shrugs and takes a sip of his wine. “But my dad got sick a couple of years ago and I had to pull out of grad school, learn the ropes a bit earlier than planned.” His eyes begin to look strained around the edges, and Yuri sort of hates that he put that expression on his face.

He wants to say something comforting, but he’s always been bad at that sort of thing, his words always taking shape awkwardly, stilted. He gets a sudden urge to squeeze JJ’s hands, but his hands feel clumsy.

He kicks out a leg instead, softly hitting JJ’s shin. “I’m sorry.”

He growls when he sees JJ wave a hand again. “Jesus, I don’t say it enough as it is, so let me just say it, alright? I say dumb shit without thinking sometimes. You were handed a rough deal. It sucked, and I’m sorry I was an asshole and brought it up.” He kicks again at JJ, this time letting his foot slide down and tap lightly at JJ’s shoe. He hopes it comes across as vaguely comforting at least.

Across him, JJ grins.

The waiter returns and lays down bowls of soup.

“Anyone tell you you’re pretty sweet when you’re not cussing people out, kitten?”

He feels his face heat up, and he swings his spoon at JJ. “I’ll let you know once people stop being stupid and I don’t have to cuss people out anymore.”

He grouses at his soup, and JJ laughs like he finds it endearing. _You strange, strange man,_ he thinks.

They finish their soup in relative silence, JJ occasionally attempting to play footsie and Yuri grumbling. Then they’re being served steak, and Yuri’s too busy digging in to speak, humming around mouthfuls of steak.

 

 

They’re being served dessert when JJ taps at his foot.

He frowns at JJ, peeved at being pulled out of his steak-induced daze. “What?”

“I said, what about you, kitten? What’s your story?” There’s something open and expectant in JJ’s gaze Yuri doesn’t feel ready to face.

He shrugs and looks away. “Not much to tell. I’m in my senior year in college. The end.”

JJ laughs and flicks a perfectly glazed carrot at him. “You’re horrible, darling. Tell me more.”

“There _is_ nothing more.” Yuri glares at him. “College takes up most of my time. Weekends, I sleep if I don’t have research at the lab.” He picks at his dinner napkin, muttering, “It’s pretty much done, anyway, so that’s that.”

JJ’s nodding, eyes soft and earnest, and Yuri suddenly thinks he’s had enough. He sets down the napkin, looking at JJ firmly. “We should probably stop.”

JJ looks taken aback. “I, what –”

Yuri exhales, crossing his arms defensively. “Whatever it is you think we’re doing, we should stop.”

He catches the eye of the waiter, and he asks for the check when he gets to the table.

“Kitten –”

“This was supposed to be a one-night stand!” There’s a hysterical edge in his voice by the end, and he sees people nearby turn their heads. He settles back in his chair and tries to breathe evenly. “This was supposed to be simple,” he says accusingly.

The waiter comes back, and JJ hands him a credit card distractedly, turning back to Yuri immediately. There’s a patient smile on his face, and Yuri simultaneously wants to kiss it and scratch it off.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated, darling –” Yuri makes a noise, and JJ spreads his hands, placating. “I just enjoy spending time with you, that’s all. I’ll take whatever you feel ready to give me.”

Yuri leans back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You must be an idiot.”

It startles a laugh out of JJ.

The waiter comes back with the card, and JJ stands quickly, shooing the waiter away when he tries to help Yuri out of his chair.  

He offers his arm out to Yuri with a smile, and Yuri pushes it away, impatient with the feeling of being out of his element. He strides out of the restaurant as quickly as he can, pushing the door open before the doorman can.

He shivers when a breeze ruffles his hair, then he feels arms slide around him, JJ warm and solid behind him.

“I just like spoiling you, Princess. Is that so bad?” He feels him murmur into his ear, and he shivers again for a different reason.

“Getting spoiled isn’t so bad, I guess,” he concedes and turns his face into JJ’s arm. JJ squeezes him, chuckling and resting his chin on Yuri’s head.

The valet pulls up with the car then, and as JJ walks him to the car, his hand slides down to Yuri’s back, hot and searing through the layers of cloth.

 

 

When JJ begins to drive, Yuri turns to him and clears his throat.

“I’m just not ready for anything serious right now, alright?” He tries to be as gentle as he can, but a defensive note comes out, and JJ glances at him before bringing a hand down and squeezing his hand.

They drive in silence, until they hit a red light and JJ turns to him.

Yuri can tell from the determined set of JJ’s shoulders that what he’s about to say is going to give Yuri a headache.

“I’ve given it some thought, darling, and I think you’ll like what I’m about to propose.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They've shared a million orgasms by now, and JJ still doesn't know Yuri's last name.

It was disarming, the way JJ could inspire almost affectionate feelings one moment, and move Yuri to homicidal urges the next.

“An arrangement,” Yuri repeats.

The grin on JJ’s face hardly falters as he nods vigorously. _Like a goddamn puppy,_ Yuri thinks. Then scolds himself _. Not a puppy._ JJ was an insult to puppies.

“It works out perfectly, if you think about it –”

“I can think perfectly fine,” Yuri bites out. He says it in the tone that has made men heads and shoulders taller than he is back off. It’s the tone that has, on one memorable occasion, made Yuuri teary-eyed enough to surrender the last katsudon bowl to Yuri.

JJ, complete blight on the face of the earth that he is, only tips his head back and laughs in response, eyes crinkling.

Yuri closes his eyes and wills lightning to strike JJ.

“Which part of this exactly did you think I was going to like?” Yuri grits out.

JJ’s eyes light up.

“I’m glad you asked,” he starts, and Yuri inwardly curses.

As JJ sucks in a deep breath like he’s about to start off on a long winded speech, Yuri scolds himself. _Never feed the bears, you idiot._  

“Fact.” JJ raises a finger. “We’ve established you like being spoiled--”

Yuri makes a noise. “I said it wasn’t too bad, dickhead –”

“Hush, darling, let the adult speak –”

“Hey asshole, there’s only one adult in the car and it isn’t you.”

“Fact the second,” JJ barrels on determinedly, "You’re broke.”

Yuri glares at him, hackles rising. JJ pats his thigh and grins when Yuri slaps his hand away.

“No shame in it, darling, half the world is broke these days. Which brings us to fact three.”

He drums a beat on the steering wheel. Yuri resists the urge to shove him out of the car and drive off with it. Mostly because he doesn't know how to drive.

“Fact three,” JJ practically sings. “ _I_ am not broke. I am, in wondrous fact, the opposite of broke.”

Yuri briefly reconsiders stealing the car.

“So now we’ve identified a demand,” he waves a hand at Yuri grandly, and Yuri snarls _both hands on the goddamn wheel asshole_ , to which JJ just waves his hand in the air even more _like a goddamn child,_ “and a supply.”

Then he sticks both hands on the wheel and nods to himself with levels of self-satisfaction Yuri has only ever seen on TV lawyers at the end of winning an impossible case.

“You’re talking out of your ass.”

JJ looks at him, injured.

“I don't think you heard me correctly."

"My hearing's fine, asshole. I'm not the one who's almost middle-aged here."

JJ laughs softly and looks at him for a moment. "Just let me spoil you darling. I’ll take you out, make you laugh –”

“Do you hear me laughing right now?”

“I made you smile earlier at dinner, don’t lie to me.” JJ looks over at him with a pout. “And I’m totally counting that, darling, because you have a lovely smile –”

Yuri feels his cheeks burning and has to turn away so he doesn’t have to see the smile blooming on JJ’s face.

“I’ll pay your rent and your tuition –”

Yuri’s head snaps back to JJ.

“Jesus, fuck, you don’t mean that –”

JJ makes a wounded sound. “If I say it, darling, I mean it.” Then he turns and gives Yuri a disappointed look. “Or have we forgotten the million orgasms I gave you this morning?”

Yuri feels himself blush harder and grits out, “It was two orgasms.”

“Two mind-blowing orgasms are the metric equivalent of a million orgasms that don’t leave you passed out and drooling on my counter.” He nods at Yuri seriously. “And that’s a scientific fact.”

There's a smile imminent on his mouth, and Yuri bites down on it, arches a brow at him instead. “Oh really, and what conversion factor did you use to get that?” The smile is unfurling, and JJ must catch it, because his eyes are glittering as he leans into Yuri the slightest bit.

“The conversion factor of 1.5 dicks per unit ass, kitten.”

His mouth curves up, smile full blown, and he laughs, _you goddamn dork,_ and JJ smiles like he’s just won a prize.

“I say 1.5, obviously, to correct for my superior size and skill.”

Yuri groans weakly and swats at him, leaning back into his seat, willing his smile down.

“So that’s your grand plan, then? You spend a shit-ton of money on me, just for the privilege of what – spoiling me? You’re either an imbecile with too much money or there are strings attached.” He looks at JJ and grumbles, “And stop pouting. You’re a grown man, it’s undignified.”

“Okay darling,” JJ smiles and fucking pouts some more. “I hear you, but listen here. One – I’m not an imbecile. Got you right here, didn’t I?”

He throws another easy smile at Yuri, and Yuri swallows against the sudden pounding of his heart.

“Let the record show, that I, Jean-Jacques Leandre Leroy, aged twenty something, possibly somewhere in his thirties, possessing of a keen intellect and an unbelievably big di –

“Jesus Christ, JJ, shut up –”

“It doesn’t count when you’re smiling when you say it, kitten,” JJ scolds him and continues.

“As I was saying. I, JJ Leroy, possessing of a keen intellect and a keener dick yada yada, having had the tremendous luck of meeting one Yuri _Last Name Redacted Because he is playing hard to get,_ made the absolutely smart decision of asking him out for dinner. For an indefinite number of dinners. And lunches, and breakfasts, and whatever other meals he will stand for." He looks back at Yuri. "There you have it – not an imbecile. Smartest decision I ever made.”

He’s smiling as he talks, easy and confident, in that way men who are used to getting their way do. And as Yuri listens to him, galled and charmed at the same time, he thinks he wouldn’t mind it if JJ got his way. Just this once.

“And two – no strings attached, darling. That’s not how I work. I’ll do everything I say, and all I want is you spending time with me.”

Yuri makes a disbelieving noise. “And sex.”

JJ looks at him helplessly. “Well, yes darling, and sex. Look at you.” He shrugs at Yuri. “Sex is on the table, if you’ll let it." He looks at Yuri beseechingly. "And I wish you’d let it. We’re good together.”

Yuri narrows his eyes at him.

“Say I say yes, what if one day I’m busy?”

“Then you’re busy.”

"What if I'm busy for an entire week?"

"Then you're busy an entire week, and I burn your ears with phone sex."

“What if I decide I don’t want to have sex?”

“Then we don’t.”

“And if I decide I’m done?”

“Then you walk away.” Yuri stares at him.

“It can’t be that easy.”

“It’s exactly that easy, darling.”

“Nothing is this easy.”

“I’m saying _this_ is. Your terms darling. It’ll be as simple as you want it. Just let me take you out, spoil you rotten, and I’ll pay. You won’t have to worry about your bills anymore. You’ll be able to study as much as your angry little heart desires, and at the end of the day all I ask is I get to see you every now and then.”

“So what you’re saying is, you want a very expensive prostitute who may or may not put out?”

JJ makes a noise like he’s dying.

“Not a prostitute, darling. And I mean absolutely no disrespect to the oldest profession in the world when I say that.”  

Yuri takes a look at him and considers it. Debt-free did sound like heaven.

 

 

They’re rounding the corner near Yuuri’s apartment complex when Yuri clears his throat.

“You’re a fucking piss poor negotiator, you know that?”

“Say what you want, darling, but if you’re saying yes, I definitely think I’m the winner.”

As JJ parks the car, Yuri steels himself and places a hand on top of JJ’s.

He leans in, eyes steady on JJ’s, and JJ curls his palm against Yuri’s jaw, stroking.

“Is this a yes?”

Yuri hums and nods, nipping at JJ’s fingers, smirking when JJ yelps and grips his chin, forcing it up and kissing him. “Bad kitty,” he murmurs against Yuri’s mouth.

“I can be the worst, if you’d like,” he groans, as a hand moves to the small of his back, rucking up the hem of his shirt, and he moves to straddle JJ.

He pauses when he’s on top, looking down at JJ, moving hair out of his eyes.

“In case I haven’t made it clear yet,” he says as he grinds down on JJ’s lap, “Sex is on the table, mister.”

JJ grins up at Yuri then, wide and open, like Yuri's the best thing he's ever seen, and Yuri has to close his eyes when it leaves him the slightest bit breathless. There’s a shift and then there’s a voice in his ear -

“If we’re doing this, I do have one rule, though, princess.”

Yuri opens his eyes.

“Oh?”

JJ tugs him down harder on his lap and fits his mouth into the curve of Yuri’s neck, the soft curl of his smile impossible to miss. “You have to promise me you won’t fall in love with me.”

Yuri stares down at him and then snorts to cover the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” He nips at JJ’s chin and kisses it soothingly. “Won’t be a problem, you asshole.”

 

 

JJ’s got one hand in the back of his pants, two fingers teasing at the rim of his hole when Yuri tilts his head and sees movement outside the window.

“Oh fuck,” he hisses. JJ just keeps kissing his neck, oblivious.

“Yeah? You like that, princess?”

A finger enters him, and they both groan.

“Fuck, darling, you’re still open from this morning.”

There's movement outside again, and he lifts a hand to JJ’s chest to stop him, but then the finger crooks just _so –_ and he gasps.

“Don’t, _fuck_ –”

He cranes his head to see better, but another finger enters him, skidding against his prostate, and his spine bows, head snapping back.

“Darling," he hears. "You’re so sensitive. One day I’m going to fuck you open and plug you up, keep you full all day so you’re thinking of me when you're in class.”

“Shut up,” he pants, but he barely hears it against the blood rushing in his hears, the crinkle of the condom wrapper tearing, the sound of JJ slicking himself up, “Shut up, I think there’s someone, _ah –_ ”

He feels himself being lowered, the fat head of JJ’s cock popping inside him, and he whines.

“Fuck, you’re perfect around me kitten,” and then JJ’s surging up into him, both hands like steel on his hips, slamming him down, and he’s gasping –

_Don’t –_

“What’s that kitten?” It’s huffed against the shell of his ear, right before tongue and teeth curve against it, nipping.

_Ah –_

“Go on, darling, speak up for the class. Everyone’s waiting.”

_Stop –_

And then there’s a slick tongue in his mouth, hot and wet, and he’s coming, lights flashing in his eyes.

He’s still panting, sagged against JJ when something slams into the side of the car with a _thump,_ and he’s rocked off JJ with a cry.

 

 

It’s a massive ball of fur and drool that greets them when they roll down the window, Makkachin panting and drooling happily into the window frame.

There’s a hissed _Makkachin! Get back here!_ and then the dog is tugged gently from the window, revealing Yuuri standing on the street, bowing over and over again – _Sorry, sorry, we were just out walking and Makkachin saw the car bouncing over and over and got excited, he didn’t mean to interrupt!_ – face so bright red it might as well have been glowing in the dark.

Beside him, JJ’s given up on buttoning up his shirt and has instead elected to laugh it up like an asshole, head thrown back against the headrest. It displays the tendons of his neck perfectly, the sharp jut of his Adam’s apple prominent, and Yuri eyes the sweat drying on the tanned skin with something like regret.

 _Next time,_ he promises himself and turns back to the window wearily.

Outside, Yuuri is still bent over, the stream of guilty apologies unabated. “We didn’t see anything, it was dark, and I’m half-blind anyway, and the windows were fogged up - oh god what am I saying – I’m just really, really sorry –”

“Hey! Katsu!”

He sees Yuuri’s head snap up and wash over with fresh horror as he realizes exactly who is in the car.

 

 

Yuuri’s still grumbling about his broken glasses when they walk up to the door.

“Katsu, if you’re going to cry over your glasses breaking, maybe next time don’t bow so hard when you’re apologizing.”

Yuri frowns at him, brown eyes still a bit watery, “It’s only polite, Yurio.”

Yuri grimaces, and turns the key. “I’m just saying, you're going to get back problems if you keep doing it –”

"Hey, Yurio." He stops when Yuuri places a hand on his. “You okay?”

He looks up at Yuuri, and considers it. He turns back to the key and twists, opening the door. “Getting there, I think.”  

They're inside, and then there’s a hand in his hair, ruffling it. He growls, turns to Yuuri, and then he’ enveloped in a hug, soft and warm.

“I’m glad.”

He closes his eyes and leans into it, feeling safe for a moment.

Then he hears a sniff, and pulls back firmly.

“Alright, Katsu, now stop being gross.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm sorry, I don't know what it is about these two that makes me write them fucking 90% of the time.  
> 2\. You have to promise me you won't fall in love with me - completely stolen from A Walk To Remember. Because I definitely think JJ is the type to quote cheesy romantic lines from movies that may or may not have made me bawl my eyes out years ago.  
> 3\. Also (cough cough) if anybody spots mistakes, please please let me know. I must have read this over three times, but who knows what miserable typos or inconsistencies I've missed.


End file.
